Plum Justified 3 - Harlan Patchwork Quilt
by PlumJustified
Summary: The continuing collision of Justified and Stephanie Plum, in which things blow up, Raylan gets frustrated, a baby is born and hilarity ensues. "PlumJustified" is the joint pen name of MsBrooklyn and AndItsOuttaHere. We hope you enjoy our story.
1. Shaken, Stirred and Stephanie

Chapter 1

There are some choices that are impossible to make. It's easy to choose between broccoli and chocolate ice cream but could you choose between chocolate ice cream and birthday cake? Both are delicious and a person could dither back and forth for ages before deciding. It's a normal reaction to temptation. Imagine if a third item got added and it was as amazing as ice cream and birthday cake, like a Boston cream doughnut. It would be impossible to choose.

Now imagine if the choice was between three delicious, amazing men. My name is Stephanie Plum and I'm a bounty hunter, working for my cousin and trying to figure out what to do with the men in my life. I wasn't planning on having a Boston cream doughnut but things never went the way I planned when I visited Kentucky.

"Steph." Givens rose from his bar stool to greet me, the badge hanging from his neck swaying with the motion. He leaned in and before I realized I was getting a lot more than a friendly peck on the cheek, he was kissing me. His long fingers brushed my cheek as he pulled away. "You look great."

I knew I looked like hell after that long drive. But no matter how bad I looked, Givens looked worse. His hair was long and neglected, he'd lost weight and there were circles under his eyes. I did a fast mental calculation, wondering if the baby had come early but it was far too soon. "How's Winona?"

"Fine." Givens rested a hand on my waist. "She's in Louisville with her sister. Kinda like how Morelli's back in Trenton."

What the hell? "How do you know he's not getting my overnight bag out of the car?"

"Because you carried it in." His fingers kneaded lightly. "By yourself. If you were speakin' to Morelli, he'd be here with you. But you're not and he's not and I'm more than a little glad about that."

"You said you needed a favor..."

"I do. Come on up and we'll talk about it."

"Up?"

He grinned. "I live upstairs."

This was getting worse by the second. "You live over a dive bar?"

"It's a college bar," Givens corrected me, as if it was an important distinction, scooping up my bag and nodding to the bartender as he guided me through the crowd of drunk college students and towards a door to a staircase. "Cheap rent in exchange for keepin' the peace a few nights a week."

My head was spinning. I hadn't seen any motels in the area and even if I had, I didn't have the money for one. Clearly Givens had other ideas about where I'd be staying.

xxxxxxxx

The apartment consisted of one room - the bedroom - a tiny foyer, a kitchenette and a bathroom, with the bar's neon sign providing ambience. The thumping of the bass for the bar's jukebox could be heard through the floor and I was sure that if I hadn't been wearing my CAT boots, I'd feel it too. How Givens could live in a place like this was a mystery.

Givens set my bag next to the bed and gave me a grin that made parts of me tingle as he answered my unspoken question. "It ain't much," he admitted, "but it does the job."

I wasn't going anywhere near that bed. Probably, I was going to end up sleeping in my car. "So -"

"How about a drink?"

"Uh, Givens -"

"Raylan." He thrust a tumbler of bourbon into my hand. "It's about time you called me Raylan, don't you think?"

I really didn't. "About that favor -"

"Later."

"But -"

"Later," he repeated, raising his glass in a silent toast and downing its contents in a gulp. His eyes met mine and he gave me a smile that was full of intent.

Yikes! "So...uh, Winona... Is she visiting her sister?" I asked. It wasn't likely, judging from the surroundings and his behavior but it wiped that smile off his face.

Givens filled his glass again. "Sorta." He studied the amber liquid before taking a long sip. "She left." Then he narrowed his eyes at me. "Broke up with Morelli again?"

"No!" Which was true. We had a fight and I left Trenton without telling him where I was going. Technically, we were still together. Maybe.

He chuckled softly and when he spoke, his Kentucky accent was more pronounced. "You wouldn't be here if you two weren't fightin' about something."

"I came because you needed a favor," I reminded him and gave him my meanest look. "It had better not be a sex favor, either,"

Givens gave me a hurt look. "It's a work favor and we can talk about it in the morning."

I blew out a sigh. "There's only one bed. Where are you going to sleep?"

It was Givens' turn to blow out a sigh. He handed me his glass and with exaggerated care, crouched and tugged an air mattress out from under the bed. Then he stood, folded his arms over his chest and shook his head ruefully. "Any other questions?"

I wasn't fooled for a second. That air mattress was a contingency plan otherwise it would have been inflated. "Are there clean towels in the bathroom? I need a shower."

xxxxxxxxxx

I shut the bathroom door and leaned against it, trying to make sense out of what just happened. Givens lured me here, telling me he needed unofficial help on a case. It sounded like the truth and I was pretty sure he did need help.

On the other hand, I had no idea why he thought we were going to have sex within minutes of my arrival.

It wasn't that I didn't think of him that way but that's all it was. Thoughts. I loved Morelli. Period. Besides, there was the whole long distance thing. Also, it didn't seem like Givens wanted an actual relationship.

Mental head slap. Why was I even thinking in terms of a relationship with Givens?

xxxxxxxxxx

The air mattress was crumpled into a heap and shoved into a corner when I emerged from the bathroom. Givens was kneeling on the floor, his hair hanging down over his eyes, glaring at the pump which I guessed didn't work.

He looked up at me, scowling. "The pump barely works and the damn mattress has a hole in it."

"Oh." I braced myself for what I knew was coming next.

"You mind sharin' the bed?" he asked, eyes going wide and hopeful. "There's no chair for me to sleep in and the floor ain't exactly an appealing option."

"Fine but no funny business," I warned him and then I added, "Winona wouldn't like it."

Givens got to his feet and laid his hands on my shoulders. "Winona," he said slowly, "left me."

"But she's having your baby," I reminded him. "Which gives you more baggage than the airport in Newark."

"I could say the same thing about Ranger and Morelli, but the thing is, the older we get the more baggage we accumulate. It all depends how you handle that baggage. And the airport is technically in Elizabeth, not Newark." Point made, he leaned in and kissed me.

We'd kissed once before, mostly to prove a point, and it had been a good kiss. This kiss was something else entirely. Givens hands roamed along my back and played with my hair, while his tongue did some pretty incredible things.

Wow.

Just...wow.

There wasn't much harm in a kiss, right?

################

Raylan's Interlude

I woke up with Stephanie in my arms and feeling more than a little frustrated. Here I was with a beautiful woman in my bed and she'd rebuffed every move I made. She had no problem kissing me or snuggling with me, apparently, but I couldn't even get her to make out.

Well, today was another day and she always liked watching me work.

As for Morelli, well, I warned him about not trying to change her and waiting too long to settle down. If Stephanie was here in Kentucky, she was fair game and I was in a mood to poach.

Stephanie made a soft sound and burrowed closer to me, nuzzling my neck. Probably she would wake up any minute and accuse me of not sticking to our agreement. There would be an outraged speech, she'd flap her arms some and then ask where the nearest motel was. Not that she was predictable though. For all I knew, she could wake up, take pity on my condition and we'd get out of bed sometime around noon. Or later.

Wishful thinking.

At least for now.

Stephanie's eyes flew open and she pushed me off of her. "Ohmigod! We didn't...did we?"

"Not unless we did it through all these clothes," I told her. I couldn't remember the last time I wore sweatpants to bed. If ever.

She sat up and narrowed her eyes at me. "You're getting a new air mattress today."

"Why?" I countered, giving her my best innocent look. "This is a big bed and nothin' happened."

If she acknowledged that she woke up in my arms, she'd have to admit that was her doing, not mine and I knew she wasn't going to admit that. "Fine. I'll buy the air mattress."

Not if I could help it.

xxxxxxxxxx

"No. Uh-uh. Not a chance. No." Constable Bob Sweeney folded his arms across his ample bulk and gave me a firm look. "No bounty hunters allowed. Law enforcement only. That's you and me, buddy."

While Bob was technically law enforcement, constables in Kentucky were one step above mall cops. They were allowed to arrest, paid a token salary but had to buy their own equipment. Bob's equipment consisted of an ancient Gremlin topped with lights he had to pay for himself.

"Steph's not here as a bounty hunter," I told him. "I deputized her under Section 39(b) of the Marshals Code. So technically, she's my deputy."

"Then you don't need me," Bob countered.

"I thought you'd like to get credit for the arrest," I said. "Think about it. You, a constable, bringin' in Drew Thompson, when even the FBI couldn't do it."

"You'd be famous," Stephanie put in, tearing her gaze from the Gremlin. She flashed Bob a winning smile. "I bet they'd even get you a new car."

Bob scowled at her. "What's wrong with my car? And what about you? You'd be riding along. I'm not sharing the spotlight with some girl bounty hunter from Jersey."

And there it was, Bob's real problem. Steph was a girl and I needed her to track Thompson. Bob was only there to make the arrest. He knew it. I knew it. And now Stephanie knew it.

She shot me a look and then tried a different tack. "Maybe I could be your assistant? Like, uh, a junior constable."

Bob made a big show of thinking it over. "No."

I dug into my pocket and pulled out the last of my cash. "I'll pay you to take Steph as your intern. Fifty bucks."

Stephanie grabbed the front of my shirt and tugged me a few paces away from Bob. Satisfied that he couldn't overhear, she hissed, "I'm not going to be his intern, Givens."

"Of course you won't," I soothed her. "He'll think you are but that's his problem. You're the one I trust to track down Thompson while I'm dealing with the mess back in Lexington. Bob's a good guy and he tries real hard."

"How well do you know this guy?"

"Since high school." I hooked my arm around her waist and pulled her close. "You know I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."

"Oh, now I get it," Bob boomed. "That's your _girlfriend_. Say no more, Raylan and keep your fifty bucks. She can ride along. No problemo."

The look Steph shot me was positively murderous. "Tell him. Tell him now, Givens. Remember the last time people thought I was your girlfriend?"

How could I forget? Still, I persisted, "That was Jersey. This is Harlan. Bein' my girlfriend here is an advantage." I knew Bob was watching and since I was never one to let an opportunity with a pretty girl go by, I pulled her to me and kissed her.

Her hands curled into fists, grabbing the front of my shirt and a fair amount of chest hair but she kissed me back. And now Bob had a reality he could accept. He was going to play big time cop to impress my girlfriend and the chances of me getting laid tonight were looking pretty good. On top of all that, we were real close to grabbing Drew Thompson.

I was on a roll.

End Interlude


	2. Plum Interruptus

I was going to kill Givens. After I took a hot, disinfecting shower. I'd spent the afternoon being driven around Harlan County in a trash-filled Gremlin with bad shocks and even worse brakes. Constable Bob filled the time with the story about how he took down Ollie Kemp in his high school shop class with a hammer and other stories about his impressive career as a constable. After four hours of listening to Constable Bob, being hit in the head with a hammer was starting to appeal to me.

I stepped under the hot spray and sighed. Givens apartment wasn't much but he had great water pressure and the water was nice and hot. When my skin started to wrinkle, I climbed out of the shower, wrapped myself in a towel and figured I could squeeze in a nap before Givens got home.

"How was your day?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Givens was lying on his side, propped up on an elbow, watching me with a shit-eating grin. He made a show of sniffing the air. "You smell nice."

Yikes! "Did you get that air mattress?"

"Uh-uh."

"You should go get one before the stores close."

"Why?" He pulled off his Henley and slid off the bed, standing in front of me wearing just a wife-beater and jeans. Even though he'd lost some weight and his hair was a bit long, Givens had a nice, taut body.

I tried not to stare, tried even harder not to think things I shouldn't and tugged at the thin towel to hold it in place.

Givens pulled me to him. "I've seen you bare-naked before."

"I'm engaged."

"That's a fib, Stephanie." His voice grew husky and his lips brushed mine. "No ring and not even a tan line. You haven't worn the ring in weeks."

"Morelli -"

"Is a fool." Givens kissed me hard and before I realized what else he was doing, the towel was tossed across the room. The next thing I knew, I was on the bed and Givens was tugging off his jeans while he kissed his way along my collarbone and worked downwards until -

"Ohmigod! Raylan!"

He stopped and laid his cheek against my thigh and the bed vibrated with his laughter. "So that's what it takes to get you to call me Raylan."

Before I could form another word, he went back to work in earnest and then I wasn't even capable of forming another thought.

Oh boy.

Oh boy!

_Raylan's Interlude_

I knew the protests and excuses were finished the second she finally called me Raylan. As I took my time enjoying my victory and the cute sounds she was making, the inevitable happened.

My damn phone rang.

Reluctantly, I stopped and pulled it off the nightstand to see Winona's number flashing.

I laid a hand on Stephanie's thigh. "Hold that thought. I gotta take this."

It wasn't really surprising when she threw the pillow at me, grabbed her clothes and ran into the bathroom.

"Winona? Everything okay?"

But it wasn't Winona who answered.

"No, everything isn't okay. Gayle's voice sounded muffled. "Winona's here at the hospital."

My heartbeat suddenly accelerated. "Why?" I picked my shirt up off the floor and threw it back on, buttoned it crooked and had to start again. I sat on the bed to pull on my boots. Stephanie was still holed up in the bathroom.

"She had some cramping and when she called her doctor she thought we should come in."

"Is she okay? Is the baby okay?"

"They're examining her now. She didn't want me to call you but..."

Well _that_ pissed me off. Why wouldn't Winona want me to know? That decided it. "I'm on my way."

"Raylan, sometimes this happens and it's noth..."

"You called me," I said. "Tell her I'm on my way, Gayle." I clicked the phone off and rapped my knuckles on the bathroom door. "Steph? I gotta go. Winona's at the hospital."

The bathroom door flew open and Stephanie, fully dressed, narrowed her eyes at me. "Maybe you should wash your face and brush your teeth before you kiss your baby-mama hello."

"I told you, she left me." She was right, though, and I grabbed my toothbrush. "But she is havin' my baby and right now, she's doing poorly. I need to be there. That don't mean I don't care about you, Steph. It's just...different. It's like..." I thought fast. "Like Ranger needin' you when you're home with Morelli."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Go," she said, giving me a shove.

"I gotta brush my teeth first."

She reached into her purse and threw something at me. "Chew some gum."

I pocketed the gum, gently moved her aside and shut the bathroom door. It was a good bet that when I opened the door she'd be gone.

_End Interlude_

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Junior Marshal Plum." Tim Gutterson, Givens' fellow marshal grinned at me and I could smell the alcohol wafting off of him. "Any trouble finding my place?"

"No," I lied. "Thanks for letting me stay. Givens' place is..."

"Say no more. You two had a lovers' spat. I get it." He took my overnight bag. "Come in and drown your sorrows."

Tim's apartment was impressively neat, a habit I guessed the Army had taught him. There was a small stack of books on the coffee table and I picked one up, just to see what it was.

He snatched it out of my hand with an embarrassed grin. "Light reading."

"Sorry."

Tim gave a self-deprecating shrug and then changed the subject. "How was your day in Harlan?"

"We didn't have a spat," I blurted, changing the subject yet again. "He had to take care of something. And his apartment is tiny and so his television. Besides, it's 80's night at the bar and I'm not a Bon Jovi fan."

"But you're from Jersey," he walked into the kitchen and I followed. "I thought all the Jersey girls dug Bon Jovi."

Dug? Did he just say dug? "Not this one." He held out a beer and I shrugged. Why not?

"Raylan doesn't have a television," Tim commented idly, "and I just happen to know Thursday is karaoke night. That's Raylan's favorite night of the week. He usually comes in grumpier'n hell on Friday. So...what were you two fighting about? No, wait, let me guess... Hell. I can't. He's got too much shit going on. Unless..." Tim grinned wickedly. "Winona called and he ran off to see her."

Because that was too hard a guess. "It's not like he's got other women in his life."

Tim chuckled. "No, the last one took off with his secret stash of money and Raylan arrested her husband. Want something stronger than a beer? I've got bourbon."

My mouth opened but no sound came out.

"You two weren't naked when she called, were you?"

My left eye started twitching.

"And weren't you engaged or something?"

"I read A Wrinkle in Time when I was in seventh grade," I said. "I thought the whole mind-control thing with that pulsing brain was scary as hell, but it's probably not that scary for a big old Army Ranger."

Tim's eye didn't twitch but his jaw did. He sat my beer on the counter and held out his hand. "Truce?"

"Truce," I agreed warily.

"Great. Lets get wasted and watch bad TV."


	3. Hard Labor

Raylan's Interlude

"You don't have to stay. I'm sure you have better things to do."

I leaned one knee against the foot of the bed and ran my fingers along the brim of the hat. She was right. I had things to do. Not necessarily better things, but there was a stack of paperwork on my desk that Art had been grumbling about for the past week, and I wanted to have it done before the weekend. On top of that, Saturday was gonna be the UK/Louisville basketball game. The bar was gonna be packed with students either celebrating or drowning their sorrows and I told Kurt I'd make my presence known. Then there was the promise Tim and I made to help Rachel move into her new apartment. And there was Stephanie. If I could find her.

"Just a bunch of paperwork," I said, leaving out the details, especially the part about Steph. I paced in front of the window, glancing out. Rain splashed against the glass. Below, the early rush hour traffic was beginning to weave its way through downtown Louisville.

"I'm fine, Raylan." Her eyes drifted to the i.v. needle taped to her arm. Her other hand rested protectively on the bulge of belly under the cheap hospital blanket. "The drugs seem to be doing their job. No more cramping. My back feels better. They'll probably let me go home in the morning."

"Is that what the doc said?"

"Yes. And you heard Gayle. I won't be alone. She'll be back as soon as she gets the kids some dinner." She chewed on her lip, not meeting my gaze.

I knew that was her tell, the lip-chewing. She was worried, and it made me wonder if there was something she wasn't telling me. "What else did the doctor say?"

She shrugged. "Not much. She told me not to worry, sometimes this happens and that we'd see how things were tomorrow." She leaned back against the pillows and picked up a magazine from the stack beside the bed. "Go do your paperwork. You're making me all nervous just standing around."

I couldn't help sighing. Might as well give the woman what she wanted. For once. I slid the hat on. "Okay, then. You'll call me if anything changes?"

"I will," she nodded.

I bent and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, resting my hand for a brief second over Winona's, over our child. She allowed me that, anyway. Her face was buried in the magazine before I was out the door.

I tried Steph but she didn't answer. No surprise. I leaned one hand against the wall and looked at my watch. The elevators in this hospital were slower than sap in January. I was about to abandon the wait and take the stairs when the doors slid open and I was face-to-face with Gayle.

"You're leaving?" Winona's sister cocked her head, one hand snaking into her purse. It emerged with a cellphone. She pushed a button on the side and the phone powered off.

"You know your sister. She pretty much told me to," I said. I blew out a breath in exasperation as the elevator doors slid shut cutting off my escape.

"Since when do you listen to her?" Gayle said. She looked at me and shook her head. "Buy me a cup of coffee."

"What? I've got some paperwork..."

"Buy me a cup of coffee, Raylan," she said, her hand firm on my shoulder. "Let's have a talk."

_Shit._

As we waited to pay for our coffee in the cafeteria, I watched the endless flow of hospital staff and visitors. It was close to dinner time and there were only a few empty tables. We found one in the back against the wall, and I tried unsuccessfully to get comfortable in the small space.

Across the table, Gayle wrapped both hands around the paper cup of coffee and stared at me, her eyes practically a mirror image of the ones I knew so well. "You know," she started, pausing to blow on the steaming liquid. "For a man who spends his life figuring out how other people think so he can round them up and bring them to justice; you can be pretty damn dense."

I took a sip of coffee and burned my tongue. I set the cup down quickly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She squared her shoulders and leveled those blue eyes at me again and I squirmed in the hard chair. Maybe we could use her for witness interrogation. "It means that my baby sister is scared to pieces, whether she showed that to you just now or not. You're the father of this baby and I would imagine you're a little scared, too, although you certainly wouldn't admit it to her." She lifted her cup. "Or me. Or anyone. Probably not even yourself."

I swallowed, running the stirrer around the edge of my own cup, watching the liquid swirl. I couldn't deny what she said.

Gayle dropped her head. "She'll never get over it if something happens to this baby."

"You think I will?" I huffed out a breath and leaned forward, sliding the hat off and running a hand through my hair.

Gayle snorted "You seem to have a quick recovery time. From what Winona tells me, it didn't take you too long to hop into bed with someone else."

"_She_ left _me_, remember?" I glared at her, angry. Like I needed reminded of another failed relationship. If what I'd had with Lindsay could even be considered one.

"Maybe if you'd tried a little harder to get to Glynco she wouldn't have left you," Gayle hissed. "Maybe if you had sense enough not to go running off to Harlan and get yourself shot she wouldn't be under so much stress and this wouldn't have happened."

"I don't need this right now." I slammed the hat on my head and pushed back from the table. "I'm goin' back to Lexington."

Gayle opened her mouth but nothing came out. I turned to walk away and heard her, soft. "Do you want to know why she won't get over this?"

I stopped, looking over my shoulder.

"Because it's yours." Gayle rolled her eyes as she tore the corner off a sugar packet and dumped it into her cup. "For some reason I cannot fathom, she still loves you. I swear. You two deserve each other."

I walk away, but only got as far as the coffee cart. Goddamn it. I poured myself another cup and retraced my steps, sitting back down across from Gayle. "What did the doctor say?"

"She didn't tell you?"

I shrugged. I wanted to hear what Gayle would say.

"You don't believe what she told you?" Gayle sighed.

"She didn't tell me much. Just not to worry."

Gayle's eyes fixed on a point over my shoulder. "The doctor said that the bleeding isn't uncommon. But she's concerned because Winona's a little more dilated than she should be, so they're giving the baby some steroids, too, just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case the baby comes early. Steroids help the lungs develop."

My head was buzzing and there was a burning sensation in my chest from gulping too much of the over-brewed hospital cafeteria coffee. My mouth was dry, my tongue thick. "She could have the baby now?" I didn't know much, but I knew this was way too early.

"She probably won't Raylan," Galye said, but her fingers clutched the cup hard enough to crumple the middle, splashing coffee onto the table and her hand. If it burned, she doesn't flinch. "She'll probably be fine. But..."

"What?"

"Nothing," Gayle shook her head, pushing up from the chair, then changed her mind, plopping back down across from him. "I...I think you should stay. Just in case."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Winona's Interlude

I've always hated hospitals, even before Raylan was shot. There's all the lights and beeping, and the sound of people talking in the hallway so low you can't make out the words. Then there are the nurses barging in at all hours to poke and prod. It's almost impossible to sleep. Despite all that and the constant nudge of worry that they kept me here at all, I must've dozed off.

As soon as I woke up, before I even opened my eyes, I pressed my hand to my belly, relieved by the movement in response. When Raylan asked me if that hurt. I told him no, but I didn't tell him that I'm going to miss being kicked when this little guy pops out.

Raylan. I felt bad about last night. I could tell he was worried, and now I felt just a little guilty for sending him away. I turned to reach for the water on the bedside table and there he was, slumped in the chair, hat over his face, feet propped up on the end of the bed. His mouth was open, and he was snoring, just a little. He stayed.

I was surprised, and before I could stop it, a tiny bit of the wall I built up around my heart started to crumble. I took a sip of lukewarm water and made a face. Ugh. I set the cup down quietly, so as not to wake him, and stretched out my legs until I could just feel the pressure of his feet on top of the blankets. We used to sleep like that when we were married, with only our feet touching. We each had our space, but we always knew we weren't alone. Comforted, I closed my eyes and drifted off.

When I woke up again, Raylan was gone. For a moment, I wondered if I dreamed it, but then the door creaked open and he reappeared, two cups in his hands. He held one up. "Decaf," he said. I could tell he was proud of himself. He was giving me the grin that made it impossible to ever stay mad at him.

"Thank you," I said, studying him. "You stayed. I thought you were going back to get some work done."

He shrugged. "I told you I'd be here for you."

I couldn't help the burst of laughter, even though I felt bad at the flash of hurt on his face. "Yes," I said. "I remember you told me that right before you left me at the appointment so you could go back to work."

He moved closer, setting the coffee down on the tray. "I'm not gonna apologize again. I apologized when I had to leave." He popped the lid off his coffee and walked to the window, pouting.

After a moment he sighed, staring at the floor, and tucked one hand into his pocket. "I'm here now. Doesn't that count?"

_For how long? _I wondered. _Until your damn phone rings? _But I pressed my lips together and reached out for the coffee. I pried off the lid and took a tentative sip. He remembered to put in just enough sugar to take the edge off. "It's good. Thank you," I said again.

A half smile curved his mouth but didn't reach those stormy eyes. "Glad I got somethin' right."

An uneasy silence hung over the room as we both sipped our coffee. "The doctor should be here soon," I said. "Hopefully you can drive me home."

As if on cue, the door opened again. The doctor, eyes on her chart, almost ran into Raylan. "Excuse me." She eyed me, then looked back at the chart. "All your vitals are good, but I'd like to do another exam." she paused.

"I'll wait in the hall," Raylan said, and he slipped out the door before I realized I wanted someone in here with me.


	4. That Sinking Feeling

Chapter 4

-_Stephanie_-

I woke up to the awful feeling of a horrible hangover, made worse by bright sunlight pouring in through the window. With a groan, I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow.

Pillow?

My eyes flew open. Somewhere between the infomercial for the Uroclub, the Kush Cushion and the Comfort Wipe, I'd passed out and it looked like Tim tucked me into his bed. Alone. There was a bottle of water and four aspirin on the nightstand, along with a note telling me that there was fresh fruit in the fridge, clean towels in the bathroom and a key on the kitchen counter.

As irritating as Tim could be, he was a pretty nice guy and now I understood what Lula saw in him. Her secret road trips to visit weren't exactly so secret, especially when she came back with a huge smile on her face.

I swallowed the aspirin and noticed that Tim had even dug my cell phone and charger out of my bag. The phone was fully charged and of course, there was no message from Givens.

Mental head slap. Why did I even care? It wasn't like we were dating. Besides, whatever happened last night was a great big fat huge mistake and it was a good thing Winona interrupted it. Probably Givens would realize that too and we could pretend the orgasms he gave me never happened.

Except they did.

I buried my face in my hands. It was true. Men and women couldn't be friends without sex getting in the way. And why was I thinking about Givens and sex? Ugh! I needed to go back to Jersey. Pronto.

Just then, my cell phone chirped with an incoming text message from Givens. He needed me to go back to Harlan for another day of aural torture with Constable Bob while I tried to track this Drew Thompson guy for him. Please.

It was the please that did it.

Givens was going to owe me for the hours of torture of having to listen to Constable Bob with a vicious hangover. Big time.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Raylan's Interlude

I paced past the nurse's station for the third time. The redhead manning the desk smiled at me over her computer. I stared at the closed door to Winona's room. Two other nurses and an orderly went in twenty minutes ago and I had no idea what was going on. As awkward as it might have been, I was beginning to regret deciding to wait in the hall while the doctor examined her.

The phone in my pocket vibrated with a text and I checked, hoping for a word from Stephanie, but it was Art. Where are you? I checked my watch. It was almost nine-thirty. Oops. I texted back a brief explanation and a promise that I'd call later with an update and I shoved the phone back into my pocket.

It rained most of the night. I had watched through the window as the streaks of winter lightning, pale and spindly, flashed across the sky while Winona slept. It was still raining this morning, and the puddles in the lowest part of the parking lot had joined together to form what looked like a small pond. As I watched a car drove through, splashing water up almost over the tires and soaking some poor sap on his way into the hospital.

I was turning heel and heading back toward Winona's room when the door opened. The knot in my stomach tightened as soon as I saw the doctor's face. I knew the news wasn't good. Before she could say anything, the orderly came down the hall, pushing a gurney.

"What's goin' on?"

The doctor stared at me for a moment. "I'm assuming you're the father?"

I nodded, getting one of those out-of-body feelings, like I was watching myself in a movie.

"She's in early labor and I don't think we can stop it. The drugs aren't working the way I'd like. Our NICU here is over-crowded with a set of quadruplets so I'm going to life-flight her to UK Medcenter in Lexington. That's where her doctor is anyway, and they have an excellent neonatologist, Dr. Mabaso. He's on alert."

Just as she finished speaking, the orderly backed out with the gurney. This time Winona was strapped in, her eyes wide and frightened.

I pushed past the doctor. Winona reached out and I grabbed hold of her hand. "I'm sorry," she said.

I had no idea what she was apologizing for. "Don't worry. I'm goin' with you."

Gayle appeared at the elevator bay as we passed, and almost broke into a run, hurrying along beside us as the orderly propelled the gurney down the hall.

The young man stopped at a different elevator. He turned a key and the doors slid open. "Sorry, Sir," he said. "You can't go any further. Only patients and hospital personnel allowed."

Winona tightened her grip on my hand and stared up at the orderly. "Why can't he come?"

"Pilot, doctor, patient. That's all allowed in the chopper. Sorry, but I gotta follow the rules."

Feeling desperate, I pulled back the tail of my flannel shirt, exposing the star. "I'm a Deputy U. S. Marshal."

The other man raised an eyebrow. "She a fugitive?"

There's always a smartass. "Of course not, but..."

"Chopper's about fifteen minutes out. It's a forty minute flight. Leave now and you should be there right after they are."

Winona's fingers dug into my hand. "I'm scared, Raylan."

"I know. Me, too." The words were reminiscent of our conversation over the sonogram picture not that long ago, but this time she didn't chide me. We shared a long look and I squeezed her hand. "I'll be there before you even land," I promised.

"We'll meet you there," Gayle said, snaking under my arm. She brushed Winona's hair off her face. "It'll be alright. We'll be there." She turned to me. "Come on, let's go."

For a moment I thought Winona wasn't going to let go of my hand, but I bent low, brushing a kiss on her temple. "It's gonna be fine," I whispered.

"You don't know that," she said, a solitary tear rolling down her cheek. "What if..."

"It's gonna be fine," I repeated, but I wasn't sure if I was saying it for her or myself.

End Interlude

Xxxxxxxxxx

- _Stephanie_-

"Know what's good for a hangover like you've got?" Bob asked.

A gun? I hated guns but I was ready to shoot myself or Bob. We'd been driving around Harlan County for two hours, knocking on doors and being insulted. Bob insisted on asking the questions since he was 'law enforcement, like your boyfriend' but it seemed he was the only one who considered himself to be a cop. Doors slammed in Bob's face with alarming regularity.

It explained the pile of fast food and candy bar wrappers on the floor of the Gremlin. I'd had plenty of doors slammed in my face too and I would have introduced Bob to Butterscotch Krimpets if he wasn't such a condescending jerk.

"You need the hair of the dog." Bob grinned at me and we pulled into the parking lot of a bar. "Besides, it's nearly eighty degrees today and as you probably noticed, the AC don't work as good as it could in a classic car like the Gremlin."

I gaped at him. "But you're on duty!"

"I'm the whole department," he shrugged. "What'm I gonna do? Write myself up? One beer. It's not like we're making major progress on this Thompson thing anyway."

One beer couldn't hurt, I supposed. I followed Bob inside, nearly colliding with a blond man in a suit and the oversized gorilla of a man behind him. The blond man smirked at me as if he knew who I was and then went on his way.

"We're closed, Constable Sweeney," called the man from behind the bar.

I recognized him instantly. Boyd Crowder. Givens sent me to question him about Dewey Crowe during my last visit to Harlan. "Sorry, we'll leave -"

"Is that..." Crowder leaned across the bar, his eyes boring into mine, "Stephanie Plum the bounty hunter. I regret to inform you that Dewey Crowe is currently incarcerated."

"I know. I'm...uh...just...leaving." I turned to Bob and narrowed my eyes. He knew this was Crowder's bar and I knew he was in over his head. "We're leaving. Right, Bob?"

Crowder flashed me a bright white smile. "Nonsense. Stay awhile and have that drink you came in for. I assume it is a drink and not some other business."

Bob bellied up to the bar. "And what if it is other business? What if I picked up some kids for vandalism and they were high on Oxy they bought from you? What if -?"

"Isn't that a DEA thing?" I interrupted him before Crowder had a chance to get pissed off. "Constables in Kentucky don't really have that kind of jurisdiction unless there's a warrant."

"What'd you do, look that up on Wikipedia?" Bob demanded, glowering at me.

I'd had enough of Bob. And Givens. And Kentucky. "As a matter of fact, I did. Because that's what someone who works in fugitive apprehension does. Research. Lots and lots of research. We don't go driving around and knocking on random doors asking stupid questions thinking people will be so intimidated by an overweight Gremlin-driving rent-a-cop that they'll spill their guts. And if you tell me that story about Ollie Kemp and the damn hammer one more time -"

"Rent-a-cop?"

"Overweight rent-a-cop," I corrected him.

There was a chuckle from the corner of the room and a bear of a man approached. He was tall, with shoulder length dark blond hair and sunglasses. "Boyd, mind if I buy the lady a beer?"

"I do because that beer is on the house." Boyd slid a glass in front of me. "If you'd like to part ways with Constable Sweeney, Miss Plum, my associate here will take you anywhere you need to go."

The associate extended a hand and addressed me in an accent that was decidedly not Kentucky. "Colton Rhodes."

"Stephanie Plum."

"Jersey?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Maryland."

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Constable Bob grumbled. He folded his arms over his chest and glowered at me. "I promised Raylan I'd keep his girlfriend safe. This isn't safe, Stephanie. Time to go."

"Wait." Boyd came out from behind the bar. "Raylan? You're Raylan Givens' girlfriend?"

"No!" Unh! Mental head slap. "I'm a friend. That's all. We -"

"You play tonsil hockey with all your friends?" Bob interrupted. It was payback for me calling him a rent-a-cop but he was ruining any chance I had of getting information out of Crowder.

Crowder raised an eyebrow. "So, you and my old friend, Raylan Givens..."

"It's not like that." I thought fast but the problem was, I was a lousy liar. "I'm just using him. He's got access to all those federal databases and, uh..."

"Say no more. Colton, will you escort the Constable out?" Another flash of that too-white smile told me Crowder didn't believe me for a second. "Miss Plum is welcome to stay."

"I'm telling Raylan," Bob called over his shoulder as Rhodes frog-marched him out. "He's gonna be really upset with you, Stephanie!"

I rolled my eyes.

Crowder grinned. "You don't seem like the type to use a man for his databases, right, Colt?"

Great. This was turning into an interrogation - them interrogating me. So much for me getting information from Crowder. Unless... Givens said being his girlfriend would be an advantage in Harlan. "Is it really any of your business what I do with Givens?"

"Raylan is a very old and dear friend of mine," Crowder said, his accent becoming thicker. "We dug coal together and more than once, I saved his life. Now I'm wondering, do I have to protect my friend Raylan's heart?"

Mental head slap. "Well, I guess I should be going now-"

"You haven't even touched your beer." Crowder slung an arm around my shoulders. "Or told us what brings you to Harlan to work with an overweight Gremlin driving constable when your boyfriend is based in Lexington."

Gulp.


	5. Constables, Crowders, and Cake

Raylan's Interlude

I weaved in and out of traffic, switching lanes. The speedometer hovered around eighty, well above the speed limit, and I kept constantly checking the rear view mirror for the tell-tale lights of a sheriff or statie. I offered to drive because I wasn't really worried about being pulled over, but I was already regretting it. Gayle pulled out her cell phone as soon as she got in the car and so far she had talked to her and Winona's father and her own husband twice, arranging for the kids. Now she was making yet another call. I wished I could throw her phone out the window.

"Deanna? I need you to put my sister on the prayer chain." There was a pause. "Winona," she said. "And her baby. She's in labor and she's only a little past 27 weeks. No, they're life-flighting her to Lexington. We're on our way now."

I heard Gayle's voice break at the end and my hands twisted tight on the steering wheel as I tried not to listen. I tried not to think about Winona, somewhere above us, scared and alone. And what about the baby? Gayle was right. If something happened to this baby Winona would be devastated. So would I. This baby was our connection...the thread that was going to hold us together. Without that...I swallowed and shook my head to clear it.

"She did? Really?" Gayle brightened. "And he's okay? That's great. I'm sure she would. Thanks, Deanna." Another pause, longer this time. "Thank you, that was lovely. I will. Bye now." She clicked the phone off, dropping it into her purse. "How much further?"

"Maybe half an hour."

"Do you think she's there yet?"

"You heard the orderly. The helicopter takes forty minutes. She's not there yet."

Gayle stared out the window and it was blessedly quiet in the car for a few minutes. Evidently too quiet for her. "That was my friend Deanna from church," she said, talking to fill the silence. "Her cousin had her little boy at 28 weeks and he's two now, doing fine." She twisted her wedding ring off her finger and slid it back on again, nervous. "She had a really nice prayer for Winona and the baby. She's going to put her on the prayer chain."

I didn't say anything. The traffic had thinned now that Louisville was miles behind us. I pushed on the accelerator, but didn't go past eighty-five.

"You think that's silly, don't you? You probably don't even believe in God." Gayle continued to stare out the window.

Crap. I didn't need to discuss my religious views, or lack of them, at the moment. I sighed. When Boyd asked me about God what seemed like forever ago, I answered flippantly, without thinking. I was just playing along with the bullshit act Boyd was putting on. Today though, with Winona's sister, I was not in the mood. "I figure there's a God," I murmured. "But he seems to have a hands off policy from what I've seen."

Gayle pursed her lips together, her brow furrowing. "I guess I can see why you'd feel that way with the things you've seen in your job and all. Winona told me what your father..."

"Not now," I shook my head, feeling the tension mount between my shoulder blades. Why the hell did Winona tell her that? The last thing I wanted to do was hash over Arlo and what he'd done. I didn't want to think about Arlo at all. "Just let me get us there, okay?"

She nodded. "Sorry," she murmured, and went back to staring out the window.

My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen, recognizing Constable Bob's Harlan number. Why wasn't Steph the one calling? I took one hand off the wheel to answer. "Givens."

"Raylan?"

"Yeah, Bob, what's goin' on?"

"Your girlfriend's gotten herself in a heap o' trouble, that's what's going on. She wouldn't listen to me for nothing. I told her I was gonna call you. I can't be responsible for..."

"Bob, what happened? Where's Stephanie?"

At the mention of her name, Gayle's head swiveled and she raised an eyebrow at me.

"It's work," I hissed.

"Work?" she snapped. "Even now? For God's sake, Raylan."

"Give me a minute, okay?" I went back to the phone. "You still there?"

"I'm here, but I'm not gonna be for much longer. Your girlfriend is rude and insulting. I oughta just let Crowder..."

"Crowder? Steph is mixed up with Boyd Crowder? Jesus Christ, Bob how the hell did you let that happen?"

"I didn't let it happen. She disrespected me in front of Crowder and his boys and once he found out she was your girlfriend he had that new hired gun of his escort me out."

There was no way to discuss the girlfriend angle with Gayle sitting beside me. It was probably better not to mention it anyway. "And she's still in there?"

"Yes."

"You'll keep an eye on the place for me, won'tcha? You wouldn't want anything to happen to Steph."

"She called me an overweight rent-a-cop, Raylan." I managed not to laugh as he went on. "I guess it's true what I've always heard about New Jersey." He gave a dismissive snort. "But I'll keep an eye on her, seein' as she's pregnant and all." He paused. "Come to think of it, I probably shouldn'tve offered her a beer. Geez. I wasn't thinkin'."

"Steph's not pregnant," I said. That earned me another questioning glare from Gayle. Maybe if I kept Bob talkin' long enough I could come up with a good story for her.

"But..." Bob stammered. "You said you were expectin' a kid and she's your girlfriend and...geez Raylan. You really are a screw-up."

I considered the very real possibility that he was right.

End Interlude

Xxxxxxxxxx

- Stephanie -

"You wouldn't be lookin' for somebody on Raylan's behalf, would you?" Crowder asked me.

Alarm bells went off in my head as I recalled what Givens told me about Drew Thompson. It wasn't just the FBI or the marshals looking for him; it was the mob. That guy with the gorilla I nearly collided with was definitely mob and since he was the only one here before me... Yikes! I thought fast. Constable Bob had mentioned something about being hired by Raylan to look after the house until he could sell it. "Actually, I am."

Crowder's shark's smile grew wider and he nodded at me to go on.

"I'm looking for a buyer for Raylan's father's house. Raylan was supposed to meet a couple who were interested but he's busy today so he asked if I could do it. And..." Crap, how did I explain Bob? "He didn't want me wandering around here by myself. He worries about me."

"But he's not your boyfriend," Rhodes commented. "You suck face with the guy, help him sell his house, and come all the way to Kentucky from Jersey to do it. That just doesn't make sense. Does that make sense to you, Boyd?"

There was no way I was going to rationally talk my way out of this. It was time to use the one thing these guys weren't prepared for - hysterical, pissed off female. I grabbed the beer and splashed it into Rhodes' face and then I slapped him for good measure. "You pig! How dare you talk to me like that!" Then I rounded on Crowder. "And you! You say you're Raylan's friend? Does that give you the right to stick your nose in his sex life? Does it?"

"Well, I -"

"I'm a nice Catholic girl," I cut him off. "And you're an offensive redneck. And I'm leaving!"

Before either of them could react, I bolted for the door, nearly colliding with Constable Bob as he threw the door open. "Raylan is pissed at you, Stephanie Plum!" he bellowed. "You got no business having a beer if you're pregnant with his kid!"

I glanced back at Crowder and his eyes were wide as he stared at me, mouthing the word pregnant.

Bob grabbed my arm and tugged me outside. "He's really pissed at you for going in there."

"You took me in there!" I climbed into the Gremlin, trying not to imagine was was crunching under my feet. "And what do you mean, he's pissed? What did you do? Call him?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. He's lucky I was still there to go in and rescue you."

"Rescue me? You told Boyd Crowder that I'm pregnant."

"And you called me an overweight rent-a-cop," he sniffed indignantly. "This overweight rent-a-cop just saved your life."

I stared at him. "Does anybody ever run against you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

I blew out a sigh, pulled out my phone and called Givens.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Raylan's Interlude

"Labor and Delivery is this way," Gayle said. She turned past the front desk, down another, even wider hall. This one was carpeted, the walls painted a soft yellow and hung with brightly colored posters. To their right, there's a waiting area with a couch and a big screen TV. A man, blonde hair disheveled, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, sat in a chair with a little boy in footie pajamas tucked on his lap. The toddler was shaking his head, tears streaming down his face, obviously having a meltdown.

"I know you wanted a brother," the man said patiently. "We thought you were gonna have a brother. But a little sister will be great."

"No!" The boy said. He sniffed loudly and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

The man looked up at me, smiled and shrugged. "Well, like it or not, that's what you've got. Come on," he lifted the child, settling him on his hip. "Let's go see Mom."

I watched them disappear through a door at the end of the hall and turned to Gayle. "What is it?"

"What?"

"Does she know what the baby is?" I'd missed the appointment when we were gonna find out and other things had pushed it out of my head. I'd never thought about it until now.

Gayle sighed, clucking her tongue at me like an incorrigible child. "If you wanted to know you should've gone to the appointment."

"Aw, come on, Gayle, just tell me."

"Who's Stephanie?"

I shoulda known it was too good to be true that she hadn't grilled me as soon as I hung up from Bob. Thing was, Winona'd met Steph, not that long ago, and she'd been suspicious then. If I didn't handle this right, it would all blow up in my face. "Stephanie Plum," I said. "She's a bounty hunter from New Jersey. Winona met her when she was down here a few months back."

All true, but Gayle still cocked her head at me. "Go on. What's she doing back here. Kentucky doesn't allow bounty hunting, do we?"

How did Gayle know that? "No, but, she's thinkin' about joining the Marshal service, so she's shadowing us for a few days. I sent her to Harlan to check up on some things and she's gotten into a jam. I've got someone on it though."

Gayle narrowed her eyes at me. "If you're lying I will hurt you."

I believed her. "I'm not lying. Now, I know she's told you. Is it a boy or a girl?"

"It's a boy, Raylan."

A boy. I felt a flush of pride followed by pure panic.

"Can I help you?" A nurse in bright blue scrubs dotted with cartoon bunnies approached us, interrupting my thoughts. Grown women should not wear clothing with bunnies. It undermines their authority. I let Gayle do the talking.

"My sister was brought here from Louisville. Winona Hawkins?" the nurse went behind the counter and gave the computer mouse several quick clicks. "I'll need to see some I.D. from both of you." Once convinced of our identities she produced two wristbands. "You'll need these to get in and out of maternity."

"Where is she?" I asked, growing impatient.

"Someone will talk to you in just a moment. If you could wait over there." She pointed to the place just vacated by the man and his son and picked up the phone.

"What the hell?" I started to lean over the desk, but Gayle tugged on my arm and pulled me with her to the lounge.

She sat, rummaging through her purse as I paced. "Why don't you sit down?"

"I don't wanna sit down. I just wanna know what's goin' on."

A slip of a woman, no bigger than Loretta, with dark hair pulled back from her face, entered the lounge and held out her hand. "I'm Dr. Lewis. Ms. Hawkins is being prepped for surgery."

"Surgery?" My voice was loud in the small space and Gayle stood quickly, laying a hand on my arm. I took a deep breath. "What's going on?"

"I only have a moment." She flipped a paper up on the chart in her hand. "She has a placental abruption - there's bleeding in the uterus- so a natural delivery is out of the question. I'll be doing a c-section." Her eyes flicked up for a moment, meeting mine and registering his concern. "I know this baby is coming very early. The neonatologist will be in the delivery room as well and we'll move the baby directly to the NICU." She closed the chart. "Our facilities are rated one of the best in the state for preemies."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

I was doing a lot of pacing today. This time it was outside the recovery room. The doctor was pleased with the surgery and told us Winona should come out of anesthesia in an hour or so. The baby had been whisked away so quickly we'd barely gotten a glimpse of a shock of dark hair. The nurse smiled when she told us he weighed just over two pounds. It didn't sound like much to me. The lump in my throat wouldn't go away. "I'm gonna go get somethin' to drink," I said to Gayle. "You want anything?"

"Um, 7-up if they have it. I've had enough caffeine today." She gave me a weak smile.

In the elevator, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. I had a son. We couldn't hold him now, or take him home for a long while anyway, but he was alive, and that was something. "Thank you." I said to no one, or to the universe. Just let him be okay.

I picked up a few cans of pop, an unidentifiable sandwich wrapped in plastic, and a salad for Gayle. The clerk behind the counter smiled at me. Her name tag read 'Stephanie'. "Shit," I said. "Sorry," I added when Stephanie-the-clerk's eyes widened. I paid and gave her a nice tip, then pulled my cell phone from my pocket and powered it up. Mute wasn't enough for the operating room theater, cell phones had to be off. I'd forgotten to turn it back on.

Sure enough there were three missed calls from Stephanie, two texts from Art, and one from Tim.

I called Stephanie first. She answered on the third ring. "You okay?" I asked.

"Aside from the fact that I'm sitting here in the Gas and Go parking lot in an un-air conditioned Gremlin waiting for Constable Bob to use the little boy's room - and from the amount of time he's been gone no one's gonna want to use it for a long time - I'm fine. Oh, and thanks to Bob, Boyd Crowder thinks I'm pregnant."

It was hard to hold the phone under my chin while I was laughing. I transferred the pop and food to one hand and punched the elevator button. "I might lose you," I warned her.

"Don't you dare!"

"Alright," I moved away from the elevators and sank into a chair in the lobby.

"Givens? Are you still there? I swear if you hang up on me I'm heading straight back to New Jersey."

I popped open a can and took a long swallow. "I'm still here. So how'd you get away from Boyd?"

"I told you. Constipated Bob came running in announcing that you were pissed I was drinking beer because I was pregnant and they were so flabbergasted that they didn't stop us from leaving."

I laughed again. "Boyd must think me quite the stud."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"No, look, Steph, I don't have a lot of time. Did you get any leads on Thompson before Bob took you for a beer?" I thought I could hear her counting to ten.

"Not really. But there was one thing..." She hesitated. "There was some mob guy leaving Boyd's bar. Blond. Evil looking. And he had his own thug following him around,"

Duffy? "Did he say anything to you?"

"No."

I really didn't want to start a fight but I needed to know, "What possessed you to go to that bar?"

"That idiot suggested it! I had no idea who the bar belonged to or I would've said no! He's a menace, Givens! Do you know he started threatening Crowder? I had to flirt with that Rhodes guy to get rid of him."

"Wait. What? You flirted with him?!"

"Wait, where are you? How's Winona? Is the baby okay?"

I knew exactly what she was doing, but she was good, I had to give her that. Her questions brought me out of Harlan and back into Lexington Medical Center. "She's fine. They're both good." I took a deep breath. "She went into early labor and had to be airlifted back here to Lexington."

There was real concern in her voice when she asked, "Do you need anything? A change of clothes? Cake?"

"Cake?" Now I was confused.

"Situations like this call for cake," Steph explained. "And food. And a bunch of neighbors bringing it."

"I have clothes in my car which is good because I'm probably gonna be here all night." I lowered my voice in case Gayle came looking for me. "Are you going back to my place?"

There was a loud sigh. "Sure. But you're getting that air mattress."

"Absolutely," I lied.


End file.
